Survival of D12G
by OrangeNinjaAttack
Summary: What if Katniss puts Peeta out of his misery in the arena? How would she live with herself? What would she do with her life? How does the Capitol react? It may sound lame but the story is better.Chapter one has been updated, because I have found a Beta reader! Woo! So, reread. There are more details, spelling checks, etc. Oh, and rated T for foul language, bad themes.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER:  
Me: The Hunger Games are all my creation!  
Rue: But, you know that's not true! She's lying.  
Me: Aw, come on Rue! You D11 kids are mean sometimes.  
Rue: But it's true!  
Me: Okay, fine. I don't own the rights to the Hunger Games.  
Rue: That's a good girl. *kisses on cheek, runs away*  
Me: Hey! I'm older than you! Oh well. I don't own the Hunger Games. *sob*  
A/N: This is the Katniss survival one. I don't know yet if it's going to be Kale yet. I know you Peeta lovers will hate this one because he dies. Remember, I'm the author. What I write here, goes. Here's a vial of virtual nightlock juice for the loyal readers that have enemies like Cato.  
Thanks as always to the great *unofficial* Betas, **WrittingImpared**, **maggiemoo1113**, and **HAPPY KID 21**. Love you guys, it's harder without a second (or third, or fourth) pair of eyes!

"_What are they waiting for?" says Peeta weakly. Between the loss of the tourniquet and the effort it took to get to the lake, his wound has opened up again._

"_I don't know," I say. Whatever the holdup is, I can't watch him lose any more blood. I get up to find a stick but almost immediately come across the arrow that bounced off Cato's body armor. It will do as well as the other arrow. As I stoop to pick it up, Claudius Templesmith's voice booms into the arena._

"_Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," he says. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."_

_There's a small burst of static and then nothing more. I stare at Peeta in disbelief as the truth sinks in. They never intended to let us both live. This has all been devised by the Gamemakers to guarantee the most dramatic showdown in history. And like a fool, I bought into it._

"_If you think about it, it's not that surprising," he says softly. I watch as he painfully makes it to his feet. Then he's moving toward me, as if in slow motion, his hand is pulling the knife from his belt -_

_Before I am even aware of my actions, my bow is loaded with the arrow pointed straight at his heart. Peeta raises his eyebrows and I see the knife has already left his hand on its way to the lake where it splashes in the water. I drop my weapon and take a step back, my face burning in what can only be shame._

"_No," he says. "Do it." Peeta limps towards me and thrusts the weapons back in my hands._

"_I can't," I say. "I won't."_

"_Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to dies like Cato," he says._

"_Then you shoot me," I say furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!" And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two._

"_You know I can't," Peeta says, discarding the weapons. "Fine, I'll go first anyway." He leans down and rips the bandage off his leg, eliminating the final barrier between his blood and the earth._

"_No, you can't kill yourself," I say. I'm on my knees, desperately plastering the bandage back onto his wound._

"_Katniss," he says. "It's what I want."_

"_You're not leaving me here alone," I say. Because if he dies, I'll never go home, not really. I'll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out._

"_Listen," he says, pulling me to my feet. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me." And he goes on about how he loves me, what life would be without me but I've stopped listening because his previous words are trapped in my head, thrashing desperately around._

Please, take it. For me.

It can only be one of us.

We both know they have to have a victor.

Katniss, it's what I want.

"Stop, no, this isn't happening. You're not going to die. We're going to live together in this very arena," I say, sobbing quietly.

"Katniss. You need to listen to me," he says even quieter. "Only one of of can win."

"If you die, I'll be stuck in this arena forever, trying to save both of us." I say, feeling like Annie when she went crazy.

"If you die, I won't have a point in life because you are my point in life," he says calmly. "I still want to just die as me. I am not some killing machine. I'm not their pawn."

"But neither am I! I can't kill you," I shout, crying uncontrollably now.

"It's okay, Katniss. Just know that I will love you forever, even in darkness. I love you always. In my mind we will never be separated." he says with so much emotion in his voice that I almost choke on my tears.

"Here," he says, handing me my bow.

"When I shoot, I'm not looking. I'm going to close my eyes and scream," I whisper into his ear.

"Okay. Here we go. Shoot on 'you'," he whispers back.

"I," he says.

One.

"Love," he says.

Two.

"You," he says quietly.

Three.

Release.

"I love you so much," he says so weakly that I scream.

Seconds later Peeta's cannon goes off.

Boom.

How am I going to live with myself?

"Congratulations to the victor of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen!" Claudius Templesmith's voice echoes, because I'm the only living soul for miles around.

_Back in D12, a week or two later:_

"Katniss, come here!" Prim shouts up the long staircase.

"No, too busy sulking," I whisper.

"Coming, Prim!" I shout, even though it's not what I want to do.

When I arrive downstairs, she looks pleased with herself.

"Look at the cookies I baked," she says proudly. They look like primroses and katniss plants. I just burst into tears. Peeta would've baked ones that look just like that.

"No, no, no, it's okay Katniss. Don't worry. You can't get hurt here. Relax. You'll be fine," Prim tries to reassure me, but it just brings on a fresh wave of tears.

Ever since I released the arrow, my life has become a nightmare. Sure, I'll be fine, but Peeta won't be. Sure, I can't get hurt here, but nothing can make up for how much I hurt Peeta. Sure, I shouldn't worry, but that doesn't mean I won't. Every time I close my eyes, I see Peeta tossing the knife into the lake, or him with an arrow in his chest, or him with that hurt look in his eyes when I shoved him into the pot after the interviews with Claudius. And the nightmares, oh the nights, they keep getting worse. I can't sleep. The only thing I can do is think about how warm Peeta was, how kind Peeta was, how mean I was to him. This life is torture. I should've either shot myself or shot him while he stabbed me. Then at least we'd be together in my mind.

Prim hugs me until the tears run out, then the shaking starts. I've felt so cold since he's left. Yes, that's it. Peeta's just left to visit other districts. He'll be back soon. He's not gone. Prim force-feeds me one of the katniss root cookies, then a primrose. She eats one of each too, wraps a blanket around me, then goes to get our mother.

Our mother discovered a medicine to help me. It gets rid of all the sadness, helps me focus on the bright side. Like, when I'm not taking it, one of the better thoughts that goes through my head is that I didn't once think of Prim when I was begging Peeta to kill me. When I'm taking it, the best thought is that Prim is glad - no, overjoyed - that I'm back. Mother brings it downstairs, forces me to swallow it, then feeds me another cookie. Mother has really come back from the deep end since I've been back. She helps me when the nightmares are the worst. Otherwise, it's Prim's job to calm me down. She has nightmares from the reaping. We comfort each other.

The only things I'm good for any more are hunting and drawing Peeta's face. The drawings, the paintings come out silly and childish. They never look right. It seems like the brushes, the pencils, the charcoal, never feel right in my hand. It's too awkward. But I try anyways, because it's what I think Peeta would want.

What Peeta would want.

What Peeta would want.

What would he want?

I realize I don't know and collapse into more sobbing before I sink into a restless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Finally, I get up some chapters! Woohoo! Hope you enjoy! Look at my profile if you want me to be your beta reader! (Finally!) Also, I was thinking of writing Survival of D12B? It might fail, but let me know what you think in reviews!**

_In Katniss' dream:_

"Katniss," Peeta whispers.

"What?"

"What about the berries?"

"What about them?"

"Let's eat them. Then the Capitol won't have a victor. Maybe then Seneca Crane will die," he whispers.

"Okay," I say, getting out the berries. "Wait, why didn't I think of this?"

"You did, silly. This is your dream, after all," he says, laughing.

"Well, then why didn't I do this in the real games?" I ask.

"I don't know. You should ask yourself," he says.

"Now?"

"No. Do it later so we have more time together,"

"Okay. So are we back in the arena?"

"Yeah. You're trying to think yourself out, like you told me you would. I'm like your conscience," he said, like he found it funny.

"Here," I say, and hand him half of the berries.

"On three," he says.

"One," I say. I hug him tight.

"Two," he answers. Maybe they don't care about us.

"Three," I say, shove them into my mouth, glad that the last view I get of our world is of Peeta's eyes.

And that's when I wake up.

_Back in real life/time:_

"Prim!" I shout.

"What?" she says breathlessly from running in.

"Did you have a bad dream tonight?" I ask curiously.

"No, why?" she asks, nervous now.

"Because my dream was actually good. I figured out how Peeta and I could've both survived, or died, depending on how important we are to the Capitol," I say excitedly.

"How?" she asks, catching my attitude.

"With the nightlock! We could've eaten it at the same time, then the Capitol would've either stopped us or let us both die. And if we both died, then Seneca Crane would be dead right now," I say.

"Well that's good. I'm glad that you got over it for a couple hours," she says.

"Me too. Wait, it's been a couple hours?" I ask, astounded.

"Yeah. You were peaceful for two hours, then you were mumbling," she says.

"Oh," I say.

"Something about how much you love Peeta?" she says quietly, realizing that I might not want to talk about it more.

I grunt. "I think I'll go back to sleep,"

"Okay," Prim says sadly. "I'll see you in the morning."

I know she wishes she could have a girly girl sister, but she's gotten used to me. I hope.

When I fall asleep, it's me and Peeta, floating in nothingness. I think the Capitol let us die from the nightlock. Poor Prim. Oh well, at least in this dream world, Peeta and I are together.

When I wake for the second time, I can smell pancakes. Oh, the wonders that Prim can make from scratch, or what cooking people consider scratch.

I pull on my black jacket from the arena (yes, they surprisingly let me keep it as a "souvenir") and some black pants. I run a brush through my hair (I've had time for that since I've gotten back) and scramble downstairs to grab some pancakes before my mother and Prim eat them all.

"Prim, these look delicious!" I pant as I reach the kitchen.

"Yes, they'll be ready in a few minutes. I thought we should celebrate because neither of us had nightmares last night," she said cheerfully. She knows that I never give out compliments.

"Where's mom?" I ask. I only call her mom out loud. Everywhere else, she's either "my mother", or She Who Disappeared.

"She's upstairs, I think she might be asleep," she says, right as we hear footsteps on the stairs. "Oh, wait, I guess she's awake." Prim turns back to the pancakes.

"Good morning!" My mother says. "I heard you two talking last night. Bad dreams?"

"No, actually, Katniss and I were talking about how neither of us had nightmares," Prim says, flipping the pancakes onto the plates.

"Really? That's great! I can see why Prim made pancakes now," she says smiling. When she walks by me, she gives me a squeeze on the shoulder that I try not to shrug off. I can't force myself to trust her since she froze on us when Dad died. I won't.

"So did you guys have dreams at all?" she asks, to keep the conversation going.

"Yeah, mine was about how Rory... oh, nevermind," Prim says, blushing ferociously.

"Prim, what did Rory do?" my mother asks, out of motherly protection.

"Well, when I went on a trip to the market, Rory came up to me and asked if he could talk to me. He took me to the meadow, and we talked about how things were going, and then, he started to talk about, well, us. He said he's always loved me, and then he kissed me on the cheek and ran away," she said, lost in the moment, and when she snapped out of it, she looked at the tablecloth wistfully.

"I need to have a talk with that boy," my mother and I whisper at the same time.

"Katniss, did you have a dream?" she says, just because we never have conversations at the table, and she doesn't want it to end. Too bad.

"Yes," I say.

"What was it about?"

"I don't feel like talking about it,"

"Okay," she says with a sigh.

"Let's eat!" Prim says, to break the tension that snuck up on her.

She plops a plate of pancakes in front of each of us. I have four, my mother and Prim have three. They've been trying to plump me up since the Games, seeing as I easily lost ten pounds. I was already light when I went into the arena. Now, I can easily be called scrawny. At least that doesn't happen at school. I stopped going there when I got back.

The pancakes look delicious, and they are. When I tell Prim that, she perks up a lot and starts humming while she cleans the dishes.

"So, what are you up to today?" My mother asks.

"Not much. I was thinking I would go buy some bread," I say nonchalantly.

Prim stops humming, and her and my mother turn to look at me.

Oh. That's right.

"Are you sure, Katniss?" Prim asks quietly.

"Yeah. I have nothing else to do. I should go give them hugs or something," I say, smiling.

"This is a bad idea," My mother says. "Let me get the bread."

"No, I can at least apologize for killing their son," I protest.

"As long as you think you can handle it, but the second you doubt yourself, turn right around and come back here," My mother says.

"Okay," I say, already pulling on my boots. "I'll be back!" I say in a mysterious tone, making Prim laugh.

I pull the door closed behind me, and start to tromp through the new grass growing. A dreadful feeling is appearing in my stomach, the one I haven't gotten since the tube started rising into the arena all those weeks ago.

_At the bakery:_

"Hello," I say as I walk in.

"Oh, hello there," one of the brothers says before looking up. "Well, what are you doing here?" he asks suspiciously.

"I just wanted to buy some bread and apologize," I whisper.

"Really?" asks his mom, who comes out from behind the counter. "You want to apologize now, after our beautiful son is dead?" she says furiously.

I almost start to cry. A tear leaks down my cheek and a sob escapes my lips.

"Mom, take it easy. It can't be easy for her either. After all, they were in love," the brother says.

The mom goes back behind the counter.

"So, what kind of bread would you like?" the brother asks in a kinder tone.

"Just the tesserae, thanks," I whisper.

The brother gets out the loaf silently and I hand him a few coins, saying thanks once again. I leave with the bread before he can give me my change. Now at least I've made up a miniscule portion of my debt to them.

I walk home, place the bread on the table, and run up to my room before anyone can see that I'm home. Once I'm safely in my room, the conversation with the Mellarks replays in my head again and again. I knew his mom was a witch.

_After our beautiful son is dead?_

_Well, what are __you__ doing here?_

What am I doing here? Whose stupid idea was it for me to go to the bakery? Oh yeah, that's right, it was my idea.

This is miserable. Stupid. Pathetic.

I dash downstairs, grab my father's old hunting jacket, and run all the way to the fence. I just need a walk. I don't care if I bring back meat or not. We don't need it anymore, anyways.

Eventually, my feet start to carry me on the path to Gale's house. For some reason, I feel the need to go there.

_At Gale's house:_

I knock on the door.

"Hi, Katniss!" shouts Posy when she opens the door.

"Hey, Catnip," Gale says, coming up behind Posy. He picks her up, and carries her to the couch where he plops her down. "Come on in," he calls over his shoulder.

The three of us sit in an awkward silence until Posy goes into the next room to play with her cornhusk dolls.

"What's up?" Gale asks.

"I don't know. I went to the bakery for some bread and they practically kicked me out before I could buy any." I whisper. "But then the brother calmed his mom down. I didn't take the change from the cost, and I broke down in front of them. So, yes, I do know what's up. The Mellarks officially hate me."

"It's okay. He's not there anymore, anyways," Gale says, realizing his mistake too late.

I get up off of the couch. "I need to get home," I say. "Bye."

"Katniss, wait. I didn't mean it like that-" he says, before I close the door behind me. I jog all the way home.

_In Victor's Village_:

"I'm home!" I shout.

"Oh good!" Prim says excitedly. "Now I can show you the sweater I knit for you. I made one for Mom, too." My sweater has a large golden mockingjay pin in the middle of black wool, and my mother's has a deep blue swirl in the middle of gray wool. They're really beautiful sweaters, but mine reminds me of the arena. I put it on right away anyways.

"It's really warm," I say to please her.

"I used the fluffiest wool that I could," she says, and smiles.

My mother walks down the stairs and takes the sweater that Prim holds out to her. She pulls it on, too, and snuggles into it.

"So what happened at the bakery?" My mother asks.

"I don't want to talk about it. The loaf of bread is on the table," I say, sulking, and walk upstairs, anywhere away from the matter at hand.

Prim grabs my hand and I try to jerk it away. She must be stronger than I thought.

I turn around, and am surprised that it's my mother.

"Let go," I growl.

"No, we need to talk about this. What happened at the bakery?" she says softly.

I shake my head.

"What happened at the bakery?" she says louder.

I clamp my mouth shut harder.

"What happened there?" she says, practically shouting.

"Mom," Prim whispers, tugging at her elbow. "Mom, let's just leave her alone. She doesn't want to talk about it."

"Prim, if your sister doesn't tell me about this, then it's going to build up. And then she's going to explode like the mines when it gets to be too much." That was a horrible choice of words. "I know what I'm talking about. So go upstairs and read your book until I'm done with Katniss." my mother says this whole thing in a strained voice.

"No, mom! You need to stop! If she doesn't want to talk about it, then leave her alone!" Prim shouts.

Woah.

"Mrs. Mellark over-reacted at me coming to the bakery, her son yelled at me, then they apologized, and I payed them in a full coin for the bread and left before they could give me change," I rush out before dashing upstairs.

"Nice, mom," I hear Prim say before she too goes upstairs.


End file.
